" What's wrong? What happened after I left?" Leila bombarded the trembling old servant with questions. Mrs Smith opened her mouth but no sound came. Her patience slowly wearied thin, she knew she was not going to get any word from her.
"I will go look for her." She charged to Rosaline's room, since the woman rarely left her room and preferred spending her days lazing around and sleeping, waiting for Leila take care of everything.
Stepping into Rosaline's room that she seldomly entered, she found it was as messy as always, with bottles littered on the floor everywhere. The air was thick with the stench of stale alcohol mingled with an acrid sickly sweet ordor. But her mother was nowhere to be seen. Where was she?
"Mother?" Leila called out softly. The longer she stood in the room, a metallic smell became prominent in the air. Her expression changed. The smell seems to be emanating from the bathroom. With the door ajar, it caused the foul ordor to seep out freely. Was that blood?!
As Leila swung the door open, she inhaled sharply, slowly taking in the sight in front of her, her mind blank. Everything else seems to become blurry and distant while the scene became more glaring. Each detail became more vivid as time slowly ticked.
In a bathtub laid Rosaline, fully clothed, her eyes closed. Her sleeping face looked so peaceful and serene. Unfortunately Leila knew she wasn't just sleeping...
The once clear water had turned a chilling shade of red, swirling like a pool of fresh blood, its surface glistening ominously in the dim light. Jagged splatters dotted the white floor, stark and brutal, like cruel yet beautiful red petals scattered around. The scene was rather gory evoking a sense horror that clung to the air, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence.
Her mother's slender wrists were marred by deep, crimson slashes, the blood oozing slowly, dripping into the tub. A tainted knife lay ominously beside the bathtub, its blade smeared with the evidence of a horrific act. It was all too clear what had transpired that it did not take a genius to immediately know.
After a moment of sheer shock, a wave of calmness enveloped her, as if a heavy fog had settled over her senses. It was as if she had slipped into a state of numbness, her emotions dulled to the point she could no longer feel anything. No pain, fear, despair... Nothing. In that instant, her mind fell into an eerie silence, a stillness that felt both foreign and strangely comforting.
"So in the end, you chose the easy way out. Just like him," she whispered. The last strand that kept her going has finally snapped.
"Miss Leila please punish me!" Mrs Smith barged in and knelt at the feet of Leila. "It's my fault for not looking after Lady Rosaline properly! I deserve death!"
Tears streamed down on the old woman's wrinkled face.
"What are you saying Mrs Smith?" Leila helped her stand up. "It was only a matter of time before it came to this. My mother was already on brink of madness after father left."
When Mrs Smith looked up, she was shocked to the bone to see her tearless. Her eyes were clear and tranquil. Was it because she was still in shock because of her mother's sudden death?
"Miss Leila, I..." Mrs Smith stammered.
"Can you please leave us alone? I would like to be alone with my mother." There was a sudden change in Leila but Mrs Smith could not pin point what it was. It was normal. The young miss was in grief. To not agitate her further, she obediently obliged.
The room became silent again. Leila took slow deliberate steps towards the bathtub her mother resided in and crouched down. She quietly examined her mother's beautiful face. "I'm finally alone huh? You could be free now. After all to both of you, I was nothing else but just a heavy burden you wished to discard and now you finally did it. Are you happy where you are?"
Rosaline had reached the limits of her endurance, feeling utterly drained by the filthy and pitiful life that had become her reality. Once, she had been the beloved daughter of a wealthy and prestigious family, as her mother often recounted in fond memories. Her life had been filled with opulence and privilege, but everything changed when she met Darren Hart, a modest merchant with a charming smile and a gentle demeanor. It was an encounter that sparked an unexpected romance, one that her family vehemently opposed.
Despite her mother's warnings and the pressure to marry someone of noble status, Rosaline chose to follow her heart. In a bold act of defiance, she severed ties with her family, believing that love was worth more than wealth and status. Together, she and Darren settled in a quaint little town, where they welcomed their daughter, Leila, into the world. For a time, their life was filled with laughter and joy, and Rosaline reveled in the warmth of her new family.
However, the idyllic facade soon shattered when Rosaline discovered Darren's dark secret. he was secretly addicted to gambling. Their once-harmonious relationship began to unravel as they quarreled more frequently over his reckless behavior. Day by day, Darren's addiction tightened its grip on him, leading him deeper into debt. The love that once bloomed between them was now overshadowed by mounting tensions and despair.
One fateful day, after a trip to the market with Leila, Rosaline returned home to a devastating reality. Darren had taken every last bit of their savings and vanished without a trace, leaving behind a mountain of debt that felt insurmountable. Whispers in the town suggested he had fled with a lover, but the truth remained a painful mystery. With his disappearance, Rosaline was left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been utterly destroyed.
In the wake of Darren's betrayal, Rosaline felt utterly lost. Having been pampered her entire life, she had never learned the skills necessary for survival. Desperate for help, she reached out to her family, only to be met with cold-hearted rejection. With no other options, she was forced to sell off every valuable item and piece of furniture in their home, stripping away their means of comfort and leaving them with nothing to sustain themselves.
The weight of sorrow and the harsh reality of poverty began to transform Rosaline. The gentle and elegant woman she once was faded away, replaced by a lazy, violent shrew. She became consumed by bitterness, losing all sense of hope. Life had become a relentless struggle, and she felt like a puppet, moving through existence without purpose or direction.
With all her anger and grief festering inside her, Rosaline began to take it out on her only child, Leila. What had once been a source of joy became an unbearable reminder of her lost dreams. She found herself resenting her daughter, viewing her as an eyesore in a life that had become too painful to bear.
And so, this tragic tale reached a heartbreaking conclusion.
Her gaze fell on her hands which both lay on each side of the bathtub. One of them was tightly clenched. Leila found it strange. She pried it open to only find a damp blood soaked folded piece of paper.
"You left me a goodbye note?" Leila chuckled at her own dark humor as she opened the note slowly. It read:
Don't trust anyone.